Jones of the 64th: A Tale of the Battles of Assaye and Laswaree

Mulha at once went to the troopers, and very soon a huge white turban was attached to one of the lances in place of the usual pennon.

"Now we will ride in close order," said Owen; for on the march discipline had been relaxed, and the ranks were broken at times, men jogging up beside one another to chat, and then on to another companion. Now, however, they closed in, and, with Owen at their head and the man with the white-pennoned lance just in rear of him, trotted on to Indore. Meanwhile the horsemen who had appeared were joined by others who could be seen streaming out through the gates of the city, and presently there were a thousand at least of them.

"A dangerous-looking lot," thought Owen as he rode along. "They seem to me to be the class of soldiers who ask few questions before commencing an attack, and leave explanation till afterwards. However, I will see that there is no room for error."

He beckoned to the man with the white pennon, and directed him to ride a few paces in advance.

"You will hoist your flag now," he said, "and if they do not heed it you will retire to the men and fall into your place."

A quarter of an hour later the body of Mahratta horse had approached to close quarters, and when within some three hundred yards a shout burst from their ranks and they flourished their arms in the air. Then smoke belched from the mass, and a score of bullets swept over the heads of Owen's troopers.

"Wave the flag," shouted our hero, beginning to feel a little anxious, for the firing still continued, and one of the horses pawed the air and rose on his hind legs, having been struck by one of the missiles. "Unsling your carbines, men, but do not fire. If they push us we will answer, but I wish to enter the town in friendship. Ah, there is their officer!"

The firing ceased as the troopers drew their carbines from the buckets, and a horseman was seen to canter out from the ranks of the Mahrattas. He raised his hand in the air, and then waved it to either side, shouting an order the meaning of which could not be ascertained at that distance. At once there was a movement amongst the Mahrattas and they broke into two parties, those on the flanks galloping off with many a shout, waving their arms in the air, and looking altogether very formidable.

"Going to surround us," said Owen to Mulha as the latter came up beside him. "They look an ugly lot of fellows, and could easily cut us to pieces."

"And no doubt would do so if they were not to distinguish a white sahib amongst us," was the answer. "These men and their ruler have caused tales to spread throughout the land. They are fierce and treacherous, and it is said that they will rob and slay friend and foe alike. Also, sahib, it is said that no Mahratta's word is of more weight than is a feather. I fear this Holkar, and shall be glad when we are out of his territories."

Holding up his hand, our hero brought his little party to a halt, while the Mahrattas, galloping like the wind, surrounded them, and then came to a halt within some hundred yards. And a very forbidding and formidable lot they looked. As Owen gazed at them anxiously, for it appeared as if at any time they might ride over his small command, he could not help admiring the easy seat of these robbers, for Holkar's horse were little better. The men seemed to be a part of the animals they rode, while they had added to their appearance by the richness of their dress. There was no standard uniform amongst these troopers. They wore what they wished, and in consequence the ring about Owen and his party displayed many a brilliant colour. In many cases turbans were discarded for metal head-pieces of Eastern design and workmanship, while not a few wore chain-mail over their necks and shoulders. Then, too, their arms were of every pattern, some having the carbine, a great number lances, while all may be said to have carried tulwars.

"Truly a formidable host, sahib," whispered Mulha as he looked askance at the Mahrattas. "And yet they are no more in numbers than those horsemen against whom you and your troop charged at Assaye. Look at your men. They are uneasy, and yet they bear themselves proudly. They are commanded by Jones Sahib, and they are content."

Indeed, it needed but a glance at the troopers to show that, although they were not entirely sanguine as to the result of this encounter, yet they had confidence in their youthful leader; for, as the shouts of the Mahrattas rose and some few slipped from their horses with the evident intention of firing at the central party, the eyes of the troopers went to Owen's face and figure, and then back again, with undaunted mien, to the surrounding horsemen. Such is the power which a European of Owen's stamp, and however youthful, has over the native. But matters were again approaching a critical stage, and as the strangers seemed to take but little notice of the white pennon, Owen without hesitation rode out from amongst his men and trotted towards the officer who had given the order which had caused the Mahrattas to divide. He was a magnificently dressed native, swarthy as any, and wearing a glittering aigrette in his turban. The hilt of his tulwar flashed as he turned to Owen, while ever and again there was a scintillation from some portion of his dress as the sun's rays struck there. He halted and watched Owen as if in uncertain mind. Then he called out an order, and at his command a dozen of his men galloped up beside him, and the whole party advanced to meet the white officer.

"Greeting," said Owen in the Mahratta tongue. "I come from His Excellency to your chief. What means this firing? Is not the flag of peace easily seen, and are we not on friendly terms with your ruler? Answer. What means the firing?"

For answer the leader of the horsemen shot his tulwar back into its sheath with a click, and then advanced still nearer.

"Holkar makes no explanation of what seems good to him," he said haughtily. "He sent me here to kill or capture. You are prisoners. You will return with me."

"On certain terms," answered Owen curtly, "and see that you consider them well, for what has befallen Scindia and his hosts may yet befall you and your men. I am no prisoner. I came as His Excellency the General's vakeel, and I and my men will ride into the city, escorted if you will, but free, carrying our arms, and at liberty to depart when our business is done."

"High tones for one who has so few to back his wishes," sneered the native, casting his eye in the direction of the troopers. "What if we who are so many as to be able to eat you up, to ride over you and leave no trace of your having been, decide to conduct you to the city as prisoners? That were a great fall for the pride of a white officer."

Owen shrugged his shoulders, and made a movement to turn his horse.

"We have met and vanquished almost as many before," he said with as much coolness as he could muster, "and we will try again. If one shot rings out from your ranks I will charge, and you will see who is the better able to ride over the other. As for you, if you decide to carry out this threat I promise that even your chieftain shall not protect you, for, remember, I am an envoy, and I come in peace, beneath the white flag, which is sacred to us all."

Without deigning to turn his head he trotted back to his men, and at his order the carbines were slipped into their buckets and the lances came down in readiness for a charge.

"I do not greatly fear trouble," he said shortly, so that they alone could hear. "But these fellows may wish to take us prisoners. In that case you will charge, and divide when you are through them. Then you will return and repeat the charge. It would never do to flee, for we should all be cut down for a certainty."

For five minutes the two bodies faced one another, Owen's troopers staring back at the Mahrattas with a calmness which was wonderful. And as they looked they edged their horses into line and selected a likely place for their charge.

To Owen the minutes went like hours, for he had a mission to carry out, and to come to blows with Holkar's men thus early was hardly conducting his task in a successful manner. To oppose these men was madness, and yet if he submitted to be taken a prisoner into Indore he knew very well that he would in all probability be thrown into a cell and there left, without opportunity of seeing Holkar. His hand went to his sabre, and he drew it, resting the blade against his shoulder. And while he and his men made their preparations, the native officer consulted with some of his men. Noisy shouts broke from their midst, and weapons were flourished. However, the threat of retaliation to which Owen had given vent evidently had its effect, for presently the officer advanced and called to our hero.

"Holkar shall decide," he said haughtily. "We might eat you up here, but there may be information to be obtained. We will escort you into the city."

"To the palace?" demanded Owen.

"To the palace. There you shall be seen by His Highness."

A few minutes later the whole cavalcade was in motion, Owen and his men riding in a compact body, while the Mahratta horse, still divided, marched in front and in rear, completely enclosing them. And in this order they came to the city of Indore, the capital of Holkar, and passed through the streets to the palace. Arrived there, Owen and his men dismounted in the courtyard.

"I like not the arrangement, sahib," whispered Mulha. "They have us in the hollow of their hands, for how can we escape from this city? See the guards which they have set."

"We are virtually prisoners, but I have no fears for the future, Mulha. This fellow, Holkar, must respect the General's messenger and the escort sent with him. I know he has none too good a name, but then he would hardly dare to offer violence to us. In any case, we are here, and can take no more precautions than we have done. But keep a careful watch and be alert, whatever happens."

A moment or two later the officer who had escorted Owen into the city emerged from the palace with a gleam of malice on his face, and beckoned to him.

"Follow me," he said curtly. "His Highness will see you. Take care that you salaam to him."

"And see that you look to your own affairs, my friend," answered Owen. "Now lead the way."

They traversed a number of passages and sumptuous apartments, and finally came to one which was gorgeously decorated. And here, surrounded by servants, pillowed in the lap of luxury, and reclining upon a divan, was Holkar, showing upon his scarred and seamed face the effects of the changing fortunes which had been his. He had but one eye, but that served him to some purpose, for he fixed it upon his visitor and gave him the benefit of a piercing gaze. Owen bowed, and at once handed the despatch he had brought.

"From His Excellency General Wellesley, in command of the army in the field," he said. "He begs me to give you his greetings, and to convey to you this despatch."

Holkar acknowledged his bow coldly, and then tore open the despatch, which was written in Mahratti. Owen saw him give a violent start of surprise as he read of the victory of Assaye. He looked up sharply, pondered for a minute, and then smiled scornfully.

"This great victory your general writes of," he said at length, when the despatch was ended, "these were Scindia's troops who were beaten, cowards whom I have swept from before my path on many an occasion. Had they been the men whom I command there would have been a different tale. What does your general desire? Why does he trouble me by sending an envoy?"

Owen noted his haughty tones, and felt even more apprehension. But he had had very complete instructions, and he endeavoured to carry them out, showing that the victory had been indeed a very real one, and that General Wellesley was anxious to assure a friendship with Holkar. It was a case for diplomacy, and Owen did his utmost. But though this powerful chieftain answered politely, his tones were of the haughtiest, and as Owen withdrew he felt sure that the friendship then existing between Holkar and the British was but a thing of straw, and that this chieftain only awaited a favourable day for breaking it. A few minutes later he was equally certain of another matter. As he came to the door of the palace Mulha met him, with consternation written on his face.

"It is as I said, sahib," he cried. "No sooner had you passed in when a force of foot-soldiers marched into this square, and when they parted there were guns fully loaded and trained on the troopers. They were forced to dismount, their horses were led away, and they themselves were disarmed and marched out of the courtyard by the soldiers."

Owen was flabbergasted. He had hardly expected such high-handed action, though every minute had increased his anxiety as to the safety of his little command. He swung round without a word, with the intention of forcing his way to Holkar's presence. But as he did so some thirty soldiers issued from a door close at hand and rushed at him. Resistance was useless, and folding his arms he allowed the men to take him. Ten minutes later he was thrust into a cell high up in one of the wings of the palace, and heard the bolts shot to after him. He was a prisoner. Holkar, the treacherous and cruel chieftain, had him in his power, and with an involuntary shudder our hero realised the gravity of his position.

CHAPTER XVI

A Dangerous Frenchman

"One hundred and forty steps up," thought Owen, as the door banged to after him, and he listened to the grating of the bolts, and then to the steps of the men who had conducted him to his prison now growing faint in the distance. He could hear the shuffle of Eastern sandals as they slid down the stone stairs, the metallic ring of a tulwar striking the wall, and then silence – silence save for the medley of sound, dulled by distance, coming to him from the outside world.

"Four stone walls and a flat ceiling," he said as he surveyed the apartment. "I fancy I must be in the highest apartment in one of the flanking towers. Then the roof is just overhead, and if – "

He broke off suddenly and stamped his foot with vexation.

"What use is it to think of the roof!" he exclaimed angrily. "It is altogether out of my reach, and the ground below as well. The door is the only means of exit."

But he was not the lad to give up hope without proper investigation, and for an hour he busied himself with inspecting every corner of his prison. He went to the window, which was at a convenient level, and craned his head through it, for it was unglazed, and wide enough to admit a man of far larger proportions than his. Below, at a distance which made him feel dizzy, was the courtyard, and outside that the street, buzzing with Eastern life. He watched the thousands of the city of Indore passing, and noted the martial appearance of almost all. There were the usual artisans, the pedlars, the bullock-drivers with their quaint carts, and the bheesties. But amongst them all, passing to and fro with an arrogant swagger which matched their fine appearance well, were hundreds of foot and horse soldiers, armed to the teeth, fierce-looking and pugnacious.

"Holkar is evidently well prepared for a war with any one," thought Owen. "There are his guns, too, and a fine collection he has. If we come to blows with him we shall have to be very wary, for they say that he has even better-trained troops than Scindia has. I heard that he had one or more Englishmen in his employ, and there are certainly Frenchmen. Well, it's no good breaking my neck with craning it out of this window, for escape is out of the question either way, to the roof above or to the ground beneath. But I am armed, and if the worst comes I could throw myself upon the jailer. We'll see. Perhaps Holkar will repent of his action, for surely it is scandalous."

There could be no doubt of that fact, and yet the history of the Mahrattas shows that on more than one occasion the powerful chieftains did not hesitate to stoop to the most odious acts of treachery. And Holkar's name figured in those acts prominently. As he sat on his divan below, his single eye passing from one to another of his servitors and causing them to cringe, his best and most enthusiastic friend could not but admit that this powerful Mahratta chieftain looked capable of any villainy.

"This victory," he said, turning to a man beside him, by colour a European, but dressed as a Mahratta, "do you think that the details are true? Or has the tale been sent to us by this youth to induce us to hold our hands? I would that I knew, for if in truth this general, known as Wellesley, has conquered Scindia with but a handful, what would be our fortune were we to commence a war with the English?"